Guardian I
by JBGiles
Summary: What really happened in the desert? And what can Buffy do about it now? I only own my characters;someone rich owns everything else. B/G


Guardian by JBG

This is an old story, but this is its first outing at !

Timeline: Warning - here there be spoilers for seasons five and six! A new twist on Buffy's spiritual quest in the desert in Intervention, with excerpts from Flooded and Tabula Rasa.  
Premise: What exactly was transferred when Giles performed the ritual in the desert? What does it mean to her now that he's gone? And what will she do about it?  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination (and the characters I made up.) Joss Whedon, WB, Mutant Enemy and/or a bunch of other people own everything else in the Buffyverse.  
Credits: All quotes from the shows are from Psyche's Transcripts. That's about as accurate as I know how to be. A big nod to Karen Jephson for her fic '44'. I learned something when I read that, dear. Also, many thanks to Dword for the fast beta!  
Buffy/Giles - rated PG-13

********

"So, this is the sacred place? Nice. Dusty. Prickly. But nice."

"We're nearly there. A few more miles, I think."

"How do you know when you get there? It all looks... deserted. Pun intended."

Giles smiled thinly, keeping his eyes on the barely visible dirt track in front of him. He was following an internal compass that was as sure as if he'd been holding the device in his hand.

Buffy watched out the window for a few more minutes, obviously bored. Her hair whipped around her face as she tried vainly to keep it out of her eyes. "I'm not washing the car when I get back, let me warn you now. Even if this is for me."

"I shan't ask you to. Ah, here we are." He stopped near the summit of a small hill. They were surrounded by cacti, sand, large rocks and very little else.

"This is here?"

He didn't speak, just got out of the car and came around as if to open her door. She was too impatient to wait, and met him at the trunk.

"What's in the trunk?"

"Supplies." He reached in, his jeans tightening nicely around his firm butt and legs. Buffy smiled to herself as she appreciated the view. She blushed slightly at her thoughts, glad he wasn't looking at her right then.

"Supplies? I was wondering about that. Like, food, water, maybe a compass?"

Giles straightened and held up his hands, now full. "What about a book, a gourd, and a bunch of twigs?"

"I don't think I'll be that hungry."

"They're for me. Come on, this way."

It seemed to Buffy that they had walked almost a mile. She looked back anxiously. The little red car was a small dot in the distance. The air was crisp and cool, but the sun was hot.

As they neared the spiritual center of the place, Giles felt the need to explain himself. Buffy had been looking at him as though he was completely crazy. "You see, the location of the sacred place is a guarded secret. I can't take you there myself. I'll have to perform a ritual to ... transfer my guardianship of you, temporarily, to, to a guide. This'll do." He stopped at the top of a large dune and nodded.

Buffy watched him with a frown. "A guide, but no food or water. So it leads me to the sacred place, and then a week later it leads you to my bleached bones?"

He smirked at that. "Buffy, please. It takes more than a week to bleach bones."

Buffy grinned back at him. What a cute smile.

Giles knelt on the ground and begins placing the twigs around him in a careful circle.

"So, how's it start?"

He flushed slightly. "I, uh, jump out of the circle and then jump back in it, and then, um ... I shake my gourd."

"I know this ritual!" Buffy declared happily. "The ancient shamans were next called upon to do the hokey-pokey and turn themselves around."

He gave her a sour look. "Go. Quest."

Buffy folded her arms and watched him with amused intensity. When he realized she wasn't going way, he sighed and rolled his eyes. With a total lack of enthusiasm, he jumped the twig barrier, teetered on one foot briefly, and jumped out. He shook the gourd limply, glaring at her.

She grinned at his discomfort. "And that's what it's all about."

********

The night air was clear and cold; Giles had put up the convertible top by the time Buffy came walking out of the dark. He smiled at her, but she looked disappointed. As she approached him, his chest tightened with love and devotion. The spirit of his guardianship retook its place surrounding his innermost being, and he welcomed it back with a sigh. The hours he spent without her presence had been as bleak and cold as the weather.

"How did it go?"

"Well, as quests go, this one was pretty much a bust."

"Oh, really?" He opened the passenger door for her and waited until they were both securely buckled in before inquiring further. "What exactly happened?"

"Nothing much. I followed this mountain lion around until it got dark and it disappeared. Then the First Slayer muttered a bunch of mumbo-jumbo about me begin full of love and death. All in all, a typical Buffy day."

Giles thought hard about what she'd said, trying to see something meaningful in it. Her aura was disturbed, but not frightened. "If you don't tell me exactly what was said, I won't be able to help you."

She sighed and began reciting her experience as closely as she could remember. As they drove home, he offered a few of his own theories about what the guide had said. He felt great relief and a deep agreement about Buffy being full of love. She was, even if she didn't recognize it in herself.

The love inside him had always responded to that... sometimes more strongly than he wanted it to.

********

As he stood on the threshold of the Magic Box, flashes of the plane trip flickered before his eyes. The misery of his flight to England contrasted with the anticipation and joy of the return trip. The first trip was death, the second life. He looked at her, the expression of longing on her face causing his heart to race with something he didn't want to examine too closely.

Her hug only increased his heart rate, but even as he searched her face intently, something was missing. He wished for privacy at that moment; needed to hold her gaze until he could reach that part of her that had always tugged at him. The presence of the others in the room made that impossible, and he decided to wait until they could be alone.

Deep inside his heart, he knew something was wrong.

Giles did the only thing he could think of. He led her into their sanctuary, the training room at the back of the shop. He wanted to take her into his arms again, to reassure himself that she was real, but her posture brought him up short. She had retreated into a prickly shell that seemed bent on putting distance between them. He couldn't figure it out... she'd seemed genuinely happy to see him, but...

"So ..."

She went immediately to the couch, smiling wanly. "I can start. How was England? How was ... life?"

She sounded so unfamiliar, so unlike the Buffy he loved, that he couldn't speak for a moment. When his voice came back to him, he answered, "Ah, I'm not really sure how to answer that. Um, well, I arrived home, I, uh, met with the Council..."

"Always a good time," she said with light sarcasm.

"Yes. Otherwise, there's, uh, nothing really to report. I, um, I keep a flat in Bath. I, I, uh, met with a few old friends. Almost made a new one, which I think is ... statistically impossible for a man of my age."

He slid his jacket off and dropped it on the sofa beside her. He felt lost inside, uncertain with his Slayer like he'd never been before.

"And now you're back."

"Yes."

"Wow. Giles, are you miserable about it, or just really British?"

He smiled and slowly removed his glasses, his expression uncomfortable. "I can't lie to you, Buffy." He sat beside her, leaning forward into her personal space. There was still no connection, and he couldn't feel it inside. "Um ... leaving Sunnydale was, uh, was difficult. And, uh, coming back was..."

"I'm guessing the word is "inconvenient"?"

"No!" he declared firmly. That wasn't it at all. "Bewildering."

She looked down, troubled. He touched her shoulder and noticed as she flinched slightly. He left his hand there anyway, wanting the contact.

"And how are you? Really? You look tired." His voice dropped into a soft, light caress. She smiled up at him, responding to his kindness.

"Me? Nah. I'm fine."

He continued to look into her eyes until she dropped the false front and slumped a little.

"I mean, yeah, you know, sleeping's hard, but ... just because of the whole waking up in a box thing. So maybe waking up's the problem. You know, but just for a second. I sleep okay. Great even. Except, you know, for the dreams ..."

She looked away again, thinking she'd said too much. He could see the change come over her, the distance in her expression. She was closed. Lost to him, and his heart began to break inside.

********

"You're leaving? Leaving me?"

"I have to," he stated softly. His throat closed up before he could say anything else.

She looked down at him, sitting so calmly on the couch in his suit and tie. She couldn't believe it. "Uh-huh."

"You have to be strong. I'm, I'm trying to-"

She interrupted him angrily. "Trying to, to what? Desert me? Abandon me? Leave me all alone when I really need somebody?"

He wished vehemently that he was that somebody. He longed to be her rock, her savior, but his heart was dead inside him and he had nothing left to give.

"I don't want to leave..."

"So don't. Please don't." She was begging now, her voice growing desperate. She moved to sit beside him, the old couch creaking with the added weight. "I can't do this without you."

His voice came out strong and sure, to his surprise. "You can. That's why I'm going. As long as I stay you'll always turn to me if there's something comes up that you feel that you can't handle, and I'll step in because, because ... because I can't bear to see you suffer."

"Me too. Hate suffering. Had about as much of it as I can take."

"Believe me, I'm loathe to cause you more, but this..."

He stopped. She looked like she was about to cry. The injured part of his psyche reached for her in desperation, wanting, needing the connection that created a gaping hole with its absence.

"I've taught you all I can about being a slayer, and your mother taught you what you needed to know about life. You ... you're not going to trust that until you're forced to stand alone."

"But why now? Now that you know where I've been, what I'm going through?"

She still didn't understand, and he despaired of finding the right words to describe what he felt with such absolute conviction. "Now more than ever. The temptation to give up is going to be overwhelming, and I can't let-"

"So I won't! No giving up. You can be here, and I can still be strong."

"Buffy, I've thought this over ... and over. I believe it's the right thing to do."

She stood, furious and hurt, and he swallowed a sob of pure misery. "You're wrong," she said flatly, and left him to his pain.

********

He'd been gone for months. It didn't seem possible, but she had managed to drive him away completely, just as she had with all the other men in her life.

The Jeep's wheels spun a little, finding traction in the slippery covering of sand that blanketed the dirt track. The one thing she'd managed to keep as hers was her mother's car. It was paid for, so the bank couldn't do a thing about it. She refused to use Giles' money once he left. It was a final act of defiance, but since he was gone, it wasn't a very effective revenge.

The house was slipping away from her, the pitiful job she had at the hamburger joint barely keeping them in electricity and food. Willow wasn't contributing at all, too engrossed in trying to kick the bad magic habit to be of any use in paying the bills. Things broke, and she couldn't afford to fix them. The lawn mower wouldn't start, so the yard started looking like a jungle until Xander couldn't stand it anymore. Once a week he brought his mother's ancient machine over and spread gasoline fumes and grass clippings around the neighborhood. At least he cared.

Unlike someone else I know, she thought bitterly. He hadn't even come to her twenty-first birthday party. He didn't come to Xander and Anya's wedding. He'd given Anya an excuse over the phone, but she refused to share it with anyone but Xander. Her best friends in the whole world were slowly drawing away from her as she sank herself deeper in despair and blackness. Only Spike seemed sympathetic, but she figured he'd do anything to keep his hold on her.

She awakened one night with such deep longing for her Watcher that she couldn't go back to sleep. While she sat in her bed, clutching her knees and rocking herself miserably, she had an inspiring thought.

Why don't I go back to the desert and try the quest thing again? It can't be any worse than this.

So here she was, hoping she could find the spot where Giles had done his little ritual and sent her off in search of wisdom. She didn't know if it would work without him and his hokey-pokey dance moves, but she had to try something.

The little knoll appeared before her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She parked the SUV next to a large cactus and stepped out, feeling in her pockets for her compass. She had a few energy bars and a thermos of water in a backpack under her jacket, but other than that she was traveling light. Aside from her usual stake and dagger, she had nothing else with her but her car keys. She snickered at herself... there was nobody out here to steal the car, but still she had the doors locked.

She trudged up the sand dune, noting that little had changed in the year since she'd been here. Everything looked exactly the same... the rocks, the little dips and valleys, the mountain lion...

"Hi, again," she said softly. The lion growled softly and turned, padding down the side of the dune and out of her sight. She sighed and followed. This time, she'd worn more practical boots, cross-country high-tops with strong laces and thick soles. Despite the chill, she was warm and comfortable. The lion never looked back as they trudged along, and Buffy almost forgot to check her compass for their general direction. She didn't want to get lost. It would be the height of irony if she croaked in the desert after beating death twice.

She remembered Giles' joke about the bleached bones, and chuckled softly. That was a good time, back before he'd suggested she kill her own sister. Before she'd died. Before she'd been banished back into flesh and blood by her friends.

She'd been walking for hours, it seemed like, when the lion turned to look at her and vanished. She sighed and glanced around for a place to sit. The last time she'd tried this, her concentration was much better. She'd gone easily into a simple trance, and then things had started happening.

She shifted several times, trying to get comfortable. The usual meditation techniques weren't working this time. She couldn't center herself. She searched her mind for some of Giles' training phrases. Something clicked inside as she remembered his voice, so low and sweet...

"There is nothing but you..."

"You are the center. And within you, there is the core of your being ... of what you are."

"Find it ... breathe into it. Focus inward. Let the world fall away ... fall away ... fall away..."

When she opened her eyes again, it was dark. She watched calmly until the cold stone circle in front of her burst into five-foot flames. It didn't frighten her like it had the first time.

Behind the flames, a form danced just out of focus.

"I remember this. You're the guide."

"Yes," the figure answered without moving its mouth.

"I have another question. Maybe questions, plural."

"Ask."

The white paint against the dark skin was striking, but Buffy focused on the First Slayer's face and tried to look past the markings and into the face of wisdom.

"Why did Giles... why did my Watcher leave me?"

The ragged figure swayed carefully, knees bent and tilted her head. "Has he left?"

"Well, yeah. He's gone. Back to England."

"He is with you. His presence is still inside you."

Buffy fought down a sarcastic comment, centering herself again. "All that is inside me is big honking loneliness."

"Is that another question?"

She considered that for a moment and then nodded. "Yes, I guess so. Why am I so lonely?"

"Because you are not with him."

"I thought you said he was here with me. Boy, you spirit guides sure are cryptic."

"You aren't asking the right question." The figure moved to one side, the flames almost obscuring her face.

"I'm trying. It isn't easy."

"Nothing of value is easy."

"Please..." Her voice cracked with desperation. "I have to know... will he come back to me? I miss him so much. I can't do this without him."

"He is with you, even now. He will always be with you."

Buffy stood, frustration overriding her good judgment. "How? How can you say that? I'm alone!"

"You have never been alone. Only lonely."

"What's the difference?" she shouted, taking a step towards the fire. The flames dropped suddenly, and she froze, fearful of ending the vision before she got her answers. She backed away, and the flames returned to their previous height.

"This is the difference. He is within you, but you are not within him. Your love is incomplete."

"So it's all my fault?" she said with sudden horror. "I've been blaming Willow and Xander and Anya and Tara, even Dawn... and it's my fault?" She felt hot tears course down both cheeks.

"There is no blame. Only truth."

She sat back down on the cold rock, broken and shaking. "What is my truth?"

The dark figure stopped swaying and stood erect, smiling. "At last you ask the right question. Not 'What is truth?' but 'What is my truth?"

"Yeah, yay me. So, what is it? I have to know. I can't go on like this."

"You say that you need your Watcher. The truth is: Your Watcher needs you."

She wiped her face roughly, concentrating on what the guide was saying. "He does? Then why did he leave me?"

"Your question has been answered."

She blinked suddenly, and the fire was gone. The air was perfectly still and cold, without a hint of residual heat. The gray rock beneath her was like a block of ice. She stood quickly and rummaged in her pocket for a flashlight, but the blue-white light of the rising moon was enough to see by. She consulted her compass and started back to the car, exhausted by her long ordeal.

Hours later, when she finally returned home and fell into her bed, she thought briefly about how nice it would be to wake up and find Giles there before succumbing to a deep, dreamless sleep.

********

For several days afterwards, Buffy was a different person. She shunned Spike's solicitous attention. She avoided Willow, Xander and Anya, tending only to Dawn and her work duties. She was busy turning over every word the spirit guide had told her in the desert, examining them from every angle, and trying to dig every nuance from the brief encounter. She talked as little as possible, trying to keep outside interference to a minimum.

At work one evening, during a double shift made possible by Dawn staying overnight with a friend, something occurred to her that caused her to look up from the grill she was cleaning with a sharp gasp.

He is within you, but you are not within him.

"Oh, my God..." she whispered, pressing a hand to her mouth. She suddenly realized it was covered with grease and pulled it away with a grimace. "Eww... and oh, my God again. It was my fault."

She remembered the hurt in his eyes when she pulled away from him. Every time he touched her, she shied. She had taught him with each action that she didn't want him with her, and finally, after a while, he had learned the lesson.

She'd flinched when he tried to touch her in comfort.

She'd run to Angel after he was injured defending Dawn and her home against the M'Fashnik demon.

She'd gotten drunk with Spike, come home sick as a dog, accepted his solace then taken his money and left him standing in the middle of her bedroom, looking lost and bewildered.

Image after image swirled by her, and her shame grew with each one. How could she have used him like that? No wonder he left. She'd had more intimate relationships with an ATM machine.

Tears bubbled to the surface, causing the half-cleaned grill to go out of focus. She blinked fiercely and resumed her scrubbing, Giles still foremost in her thoughts. His connection to her had never wavered. His loyalty, his love, everything he did was for her. Nothing she did was for him. Not one thing. It had been her life, her death, her resurrection, her despair, her need...

She thought about his words in the desert... how he had to transfer his guardianship in order for the spirit guide to contact her the first time. With horror, she realized that she'd made the contact this time without that transfer. His guardianship was broken, somehow, and it was her fault. It was up to her to reconnect, somehow, to show him that she'd changed. Matured. Grown up and realized how much they needed each other.

She sniffed her way through her final cleanup, doing everything she had to do without thinking about it. Her mind was completely on her Watcher and how broken-hearted he must have been in order to leave. She saw his gentle smile, his beautiful eyes, and his dear face as he tried to explain his feelings to her. He's as challenged at that as I am, she thought with a fond smile.

The guide told her Giles was with her always. It was time she returned the favor with interest. She decided right there and then to make things right, if it took her the rest of her life. However long that would be this time.

********

She dialed the international calling code with trembling fingers. Zero. One. One. Then the country code. Forty-Four. Then his number in Bath. Waited through the clicks and beeps of overseas connections. Held her breath when she heard the telephone ringing on the other side. Sighed with relief as he answered. She didn't even register what he said in greeting. All that mattered was the sound of his voice.

"Giles?"

"Buffy! What's wrong? Are you all right? Is it Dawn?"

She smiled and closed her eyes, his concern for them both warming her soul. "We're all right. I just wanted to be sure you were going to be home for the next few days."

"Home? Of course I will. What's going on? Is there something you need?"

Always thinking of her. Her needs. Her wants. Her best interests. Never thinking about what he wants or needs...

"I... um... wanted to send you something. I wanted to be sure you would be there."

The smile in his voice was evident. "What are you sending me?"

"It's a surprise," she said softly.

"Oh, really? You can't give me a hint?" He was teasing her a little, and she loved it.

"You'll have to wait. It won't be long, I promise."

"Very well. I shall be on pins and needles until it arrives."

"I hope it'll be worth it."

"I'm sure it will."

"Bye, Giles," she whispered gently, and he echoed her farewell with equal feeling.

She hung up the telephone and looked at the airline tickets in her hand. Global Airlines. Round trip for one... one-way for another. It seemed appropriate to use Giles' money to bring him home. She had never assumed so much on such little evidence, but in her heart, she knew she was right.

She hoped he thought it was worth it, when he saw her again.

The End


End file.
